


Curved Lines

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Architects, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 21:39:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4074763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tatsuya's smiling his best “we’ll worry about this later and maybe stop it from completely going to hell” smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curved Lines

There’s something about Tatsuya, in the center of the dusty living room, fallen plaster all around him, holding up his hands and measuring the air and thinking—it’s the slope of his back, disappearing into the folds of his vest, and the movements of his hands and thin fingers, the energy like he’s some sort of video game mage about to perform a complex spell, as if the plaster’s about to lift off the floor. He lowers his arms, turns; the light coming in through the tattered curtains shines off his face and he blinks, still smiling.

“I got it.”

He practically tugs Wei over with his mind (or maybe it’s just habit, or some combination of the two).

“Let’s open it up,” he says, and Wei’s already got his phone out of his pocket and searching the online version of the building code for tearing down walls because even when he’s almost sure they can do it half the time it’s only because Tatsuya’s cajoled or charmed him into believing, and if experience has taught Wei anything it’s that Tatsuya is not to be trusted, especially when the customer hasn’t given very many guidelines and he’s got a clear vision of how this place should look, code-compliant or not.   
“You can’t tear out the building façade and put in bigger windows; I hope you know that,” he says.

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about that,” says Tatsuya. “I mean the kitchen. It’s so big and these people said they didn’t care what we did with it as long as it looked nice, and they don’t cook.”

“Do you mean a bar?”

“Yeah. But maybe about half-wide, away from the window.”

“Are they going to pay for you to make a new hallway? Or do you want it to go directly into the kitchen?”

Tatsuya shrugs, smiling his best “we’ll worry about this later and maybe stop it from completely going to hell” smile. Another piece of plaster falls from the ceiling; Wei sidesteps it (his black shoes are already covered in white dust like malicious snow). He’s practically on top of Tatsuya at this point; Wei’s hand finds the small of Tatsuya’s back and Tatsuya’s hand finds Wei’s shoulder as if they’re pieces in a set that snap together. Tatsuya’s skin is warm even through the layers of clothing, shifting slightly as he breathes.

* * *

Wei sneezes for the third time in the past minute and a half; someone must be disturbing the dust in here—generally they keep the office clean (well, Wei does), but they can’t go through the rolls of old drawings enough to keep them dust-free and putting them in storage isn’t ideal (they tried it once; the drawings they’d stored were naturally the ones they needed for reference the very next day). He’s been bent over his computer trying to resolve the hallway and the bedrooms for the past hour and he needs Tatsuya’s input anyway, as well as a good stretch.

The showroom wall is covered in unrolled floor plans tacked up like maps on the wall of some grand general; Tatsuya surveys them as if he’s about to make the ultimate decision—Wei nearly trips over a pile of badly re-rolled drawings, and between him and Tatsuya lies a sea of half-complete sets lying half-rolled or even propped open under some of the shitty paperweights they’ve received from clients for Christmases long past.

“Find anything?”

Tatsuya shrugs. “It would be so nice to have a hallway with windows on it. We did that for that paper company office—”

“Offices don’t need windows in every cubicle. Residences need windows in every bedroom. And think about the costs of redoing the walls, and the baseboards and the ceilings. We have a budget and they said they wanted kitchen cabinets and a window seat in the living room.”

Tatsuya frowns, and then steps expertly around the obstacle course of unrolled plans, clearing a space beside a drawing unrolled and held in place by two snow globes. Wei walks gingerly around and through as best he can without stepping on any of the papers, finally sinking into a crouch beside Tatsuya. Up close he looks even cuter, pale skin of his neck standing out against the crisp charcoal grey of his collar, body curled up halfway like the paper brushing against his curled knuckles on the floor. Wei keeps trying to tell himself not to get distracted, but somehow it always ends up like this; somehow he’s always going to concede something to Tatsuya (but the clients are usually even more easily convinced of whatever it is Tatsuya wants being a good idea than Wei is).

“What if we put the kitchen stuff on the center of the back wall the way we did in that studio? Where the bathroom door was on one side and that little breakfast nook was on the other?”

“Would that fit?”

Tatsuya looks up at him. “It should…”

“We’re going to have to use a four-burner stove with the oven underneath. Can they afford a custom fridge?”

Tatsuya shrugs, tapping the end of his pen against the labeled kitchen area on the drawing—they have the files for that one somewhere, and if they can copy part of it over it might be worthwhile. That is, if Tatsuya can sell them on the open living room slash kitchen in the first place, which of all phases of the plan Wei has the most faith in.

“Anyway, can you put these back? I can’t reach some of the shelves,” says Tatsuya.

Of course, he’s ignoring the ladder, but it’s not as if he’d roll them up in the particular manner Wei likes them done anyway.   
“I knew you were only keeping me around for my height,” Wei mutters, as he begins to gather up rolls and sort them.

His arms are full when Tatsuya catches him, standing on his tiptoes to place a quick kiss to his mouth. Why it always has to be part of a game Wei still doesn’t know—but he’s got enough blind faith to believe one day he’ll figure Tatsuya out.


End file.
